


All Her Spirit Animals

by DinosaurTheology



Series: Johnny and Dora [12]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Meditation, Short & Sweet, Spirit Animals, Sweet, Team as Family, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8072122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinosaurTheology/pseuds/DinosaurTheology
Summary: Gina carefully ponders the team, her family, and what they mean to her. Also, wolves are super awesome and should never be underestimated.





	

**Author's Note:**

> B99 isn't mine but I really love it. Before I write a bigger wedding story to cap off my little series, and to get ready for the new season next week, here's a little something from the POV of your favorite emoji. Winky face.

Gina Linetti’s spirit animal is the wolf. This is a well known fact. Wolves are noble, graceful, bomb-ass bitches with piercing eyes and hair that always stays super on point. Wolves are, quite frankly, the shit and she’d fight to the death anyone who dared to say otherwise. She wears one blazoned on her shirt more days that she doesn’t, counts a porcelain wolf on her desk that Jake’s Nana got her for high school graduation (that’s also a super-hot Native American shapeshifter in the private fantasies even she doesn’t often reveal) as one of her most treasured items and even sleeps with a little stuffed wolf that Jake himself got her so that she wouldn’t be so scared at night after her dad skipped town so, so many years ago. In short, to doubt Gina’s obsession with wolves would be both unwise and delusional.

That’s why it’s funny when Captain Holt, usually such a perceptive man, said to her one day. “Gina, I’m surprised that you consider a wolf your personal totem.”

“Why’s that?” She asked. “Don’t you think of all this lusciousness as totally lupine?” She ran a hand semi-sensually down her belly and thigh.

His brow furrowed. It usually did. “Lusciousness I feel ill-equipped to judge aside, wolves are social creatures. They travel in packs. It seems a strange escutcheon, then, for someone as fiercely independent as you.”

She frowns. “Well… what animal do you think should be my crab rangoon, then?”

“Escutcheon. It’s a device charged in heraldry.” 

“Whatever. Tell me it.”

He pauses and sighs a moment. “Something wild and free that thrives on cold, crisp mountain air. I think that a lynx or snow leopard would be more appropriate.” He nods and smiles. “But that’s just one man’s opinion.”

One man’s totally wrong opinion. The fool. Gina fumes, a little, and then flounces off into the chambers of her own perception--an interesting place where she can rest for hours at a time--to reflect on how silly this statement really is. 

Wolves are social creatures. Wolves travel in packs. Well, Gina has a pack and it’s not Floorgasm, the sneaking bitches, or Dancey Reagan… her pack’s right here in the Nine-Nine.

Captain Holt is their alpha male, obviously, stern and wise and capable enough that their happy little vessel won’t founder in even the stormiest seas or shoal out on the rockiest bank. She’d like to pretend that she’s an alpha female but knows, here in the secret cells of the ego where there is no pretending, that Terry truly holds this role no matter how hugely muscular and masculine he is. She cannot think of a person gentler, kinder or more nurturing than the enormous sergeant and the thought of him brings a warmness to the pit of her stomach more profound than the flush usually brought on just by his utter gorgeousness.

Jake and Rosa are the hunters. Rosa ranges farther and tackles more dangerous prey, like the giggle-pig dealers and suppliers. She is a she-wolf that smells of cinnamon and hot spices with the lean and hungry look of a killer hanging around her. It tightly wraps a center of pure gold and even one as mercurial as Gina would never be able to summon the confidence to take her on heads-up or, hell, any other way either. 

Jake is a different sort of hunter, she thinks, and the reverse of Rosa. She wears her danger on the outside like a suit of Gothic armor but he hides tempered steel beneath a clown’s greasepaint and prat falls. To mistake his good humor for weakness would be utter foolishness and she has full faith that Doug Judy the Pontiac Bandit will end up, eventually, contemplating this at his leisure behind a… well, probably behind a medium security prison’s bars. Judy is not violent, after all, and is even sort of cute and charming in his own way.

Charles and Amy, by contrast, are the selsa wolves. They don’t range far with loose muscles and slavering jaws like Jake and Rosa but are dedicated to protection, instead. Charles is both her ex-lover and now step-brother… step-ex-brover? It’s a weird word for a weird world but it seems to fit their reality. He’s protected her, emotionally and physically, more than once. She remembers most recently, most pointedly, how he jumped an armed man for her and Jake. “Yipee kayak!” It… wasn’t the smoothest rescue ever, wasn’t sexy cool, but whatevs… it got the job done. You took what was offered in those situations, right?

Amy is another odd case. She’s nerdy and had done super well in school, was a scholarship kid and valedictorian at some high toned arts academy in the city. She did not realize that true genius, true art, had to flow from within--like it did with Dancey Reagan--and not from the formalized constructions of an academic environment. She was not even, in Gina’s august opinion, a particularly interesting person until the slightly pervy four-drink Amy made her appearance…

And yet… Gina’s best friend in all the universe, or possibly beyond, loved this dull, large headed woman. There must have been something there, then… just, like, buried under the pile of binders and Nancy Drew books. Gina did have to admit that she would be a great mom, though, to little Gina Linetti Augusta Awesome-a Peralta (which was, according to science, legend and God Himself what they had to name their kid)... it was just going to be imperative that the little nipper have plenty of cool aunt time. That would balance the sheets just right and let her grow up to be semi-normal instead of an accountant or something.

Speaking of those who seem like they should be somewhere other than a police precinct, and Amy really belongs in the world’s largest library shushing noisy teenagers and wearing square, huge glasses, Gina lets her mind rest now on Hitchcock and Scully. Even these two have a place in the hierarchy, even these poor omega wolves. They may be losing their pelts and toothless but a wolf pack takes care of its own, dammit, and they’ll be chewing tallow in the breakroom until they retire or die.

And what about her? What about Gina? She realizes, deep in her self, that place with no pretending, that she’s a cub. It’s not so bad, really. She is wrapped warmly in the embrace of all her packmates, her family, and they leave her enriched each time she interacts with them… even that large headed thing who can’t hold her liquor. And a cub is the beating heart of a wolf pack, always at the center of attention, always the one to be guarded and protected. And Gina wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
